Sympathy for the Devil
by Skriva
Summary: When Sam is kidnapped he finds himself saved by the last being he wants to see. When the rescue goes south and Lucifer is injured Sam must face his demons (or devil) and perhaps things aren't as bad as they seem. With a new evil emerging and a newly human Lucifer on his hands Sam is caught in the middle and might he feel just a little sympathy for the devil? (possible Samcifer)


Water drips somewhere in the distance, a constant patter in the cold darkness. Sam looks around, craning his neck and twisting as much as the ropes binding him to the chair will allow. The pungent stench of old blood and wet rot is strong, turning his empty stomach.

When was the last time he ate? Even the disgustingly greasy diner food sounds appealing right now. Sam jerks, wincing at the rawness of his wrists where the ropes have scraped away the skin from his attempts to break free.

His cell phone lies shattered against the far wall, beyond reach and useless.

Where was Dean? Or Cas?

Sam groans, closing his eyes against the dull pounding in his skull from the blow that has knocked him unconscious. He had attempted to contact Castiel but per usual, the angel wasn't responding. Or perhaps his prayers couldn't penetrate wherever it was he is being held.

Frustration and exhaustion are boiling in Sam as he slams side to side in the metal chair. It teeters precariously and with a sickening jolt Sam tips over, falling hard with a crash to the gritty cement floor.

He swallows back a yell at the sharp pain in his arm that's twisted beneath him and the chair.

Listening hard for several seconds for any sounds of movement beyond the metal double doors Sam takes in a deep breath and rolls himself and the chair off his trapped arm, the squeal of metal on cement echoing shrilly in the empty warehouse.

The shapeshifter that had taken Dean's appearance and kidnapped Sam still doesn't appear and Sam wonders if the creature just planned to leave him here to starve slowly to death. The scent of blood tells him otherwise and Sam kicks furiously against the ropes.

"Sammy."

Sam blinks, freezing, the feeling of plummeting through space shooting through his chest.

He doesn't move, listening to the approach of footsteps and waiting to see the glint of a crude weapon in the hand of the shapeshifter's newest form.

Icy blue eyes meet his and Sam instantly knows it isn't a shapeshifter.

"Lucifer."

The archangel gives the ropes a quick once over, his familiar rumpled appearance only intensifying Sam's unease.

"What do you want?" Sam demands, voice rough from lack of water and use. Painfully aware of his vulnerable state.

His unease turns to confusion as Lucifer snaps, melting the bonds away.

"I heard your, distress call." He drawls, fixing the hunter with a distasteful scowl, "Calling Castiel? Really?"

"Who was I supposed to call? You?" Sam retorts, disentangling himself and standing up.

Lucifer rolls his eyes before the sarcasm melts from his face and he glances at the doors, "You need to leave, now."

"What?" Sam asks, putting a hand to the back of his head, "You just show up and free me and let me go? Where's the catch?"

"I don't have time to explain, just go Sam." Lucifer orders, voice dropping close to a snarl, something in his manner almost frantic.

Snorting Sam shakes his head, looking suspiciously around as if there might be demons materializing behind him, "It's never this easy Lucifer. What's the angle? Got a few demons waiting outside for me, a hellhound?"

"GO SAM!"

The glass in the windows shatter at the angel's roar and Sam staggers back.

Its then he looks up and sees the devils trap overhead, big enough to cover the entire ceiling of the warehouse, some of the sigils unlike anything he has seen before.

Lucifer grimly meets Sam's eyes as realization slowly begins dawning on him

"I was bait."

"Clever clever clever." Dean's voice praises and Sam wheels around to face the shapeshifter striding across the room towards them, "Very clever Winchester. Lucifer, I must say I'm disappointed."

The devil moves to snap his fingers but the shapeshifter is faster, raising his fist, something clenched tightly inside and Lucifer buckles, crumpling to his knees.

Sam looks from where Lucifer is struggling to remain kneeling, glaring at the chuckling shapeshifter from beneath his brows.

"The devil and his perfect vessel. Two birds with one stone, I've waited for this day for so long." Dean snickers, pulling a long knife from its sheath at his hip.

"Don't. Touch. Him"

Lucifer growls, dropping to his hands and knees as the shapeshifter raises his fist higher.

"How..cute. Really? What are you going to do?"

"Kill you."

"No, I'm going to kill you, but not before I make you watch Winchester die first. He's your weakness, your only weakness."

Sam snatches up the chair and hurls it into the creature, knocking it off balance enough for it to drop the sigil stone in its fist.

Lucifer is up in an instant, "RUN SAM!"

Sam lands hard on his side as the shapeshifter kicks his feet out from underneath him with a growl, knife drawn.

Cold hands grab him and Sam is hauled beyond the creature's grasp, his brother's grasp. But its not his brother, Sam reminds himself, seeing the utter hatred in Dean's green eyes.

The sigil stone is lying a few feet to his left and Sam lunges for it, narrowly missing the blade as the shapeshifter dives after him.

Sam grabs the stone, its polished surface smooth in his palm and before he has time to think about the consequences or how pissed off Dean will be, smashes it against the floor. He may regret it later but Sam doesn't have time to think any more about it as the enraged shapeshifter lets out a yell and brings the knife down on him.

Lucifer slams into the creature, knocking them both several feet away in a struggling heap.

Sam once again snatches up the chair and runs into the fray, Lucifer is pinned beneath the shapeshifter, his wide hands clenched around the creature's throat.

Without hesitation Sam slams the metal chair down across the back of the shapeshifter's skull, payback bitch, and continues until the creature is dead in a pool of blood.

"Son of a bitch."

"That's my Sammy." Lucifer croons.

Sam glares at him but his angry retort dies on his tongue at the sight of the knife's hilt buried in Lucifer's stomach.

"Shit."

Lucifer looks down then back into Sam's horrified face, taking ahold of the knife and slowly drawing it from the wound. It clatters to the cement floor beside him and blood begins flowing freely from the gaping hole.

"What the hell Lucifer?" Sam cries earning himself a small smirk.

"Oh Sammy, you worry too..much." Lucifer says, his smug feline expression faltering when the wound continues to bleed.

"Shit, you should have left it in, you moron." Sam snaps, crouching in front of the archangel and placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Lucifer watches the blood pumping across his stomach and soaking the lap of his blue jeans, "My..grace."

Grimacing, Sam reaches out and presses his hand over the wound, feeling the cool blood flowing swiftly between his fingers.

"My..grace." Lucifer whispers again, "Fuck! Sam, the blade-"

"Something about it is interfering with your grace." Sam finishes, as Lucifer doubles over with an agonized groan, both hands closing over his, cramming it against the wound.

"Fuck."

"C'mon we need to get out of here." Sam urges, hauling the archangel up, keeping his hand over the stab wound.

"Little problem there Sammy." Lucifer hisses, closing his eyes momentarily against the pain.

Angels didn't feel pain.

He jerks his chin up at the ceiling, at the large devil's trap looming over their heads.

"Here." Sam says, pushing the bloodied knife into Lucifer's shaking hand, "You can break it with this."

Lucifer sighs, clenching his jaw and hurling the shapeshifter's knife up into the edge of the trap.

There's a wet tearing sound and Lucifer crumples into Sam with a muffled cry, the motion having torn the wound open further.

"Easy." Sam murmurs "Good work."

"I don't need your praise like some child." Lucifer snarls, though there isn't much venom behind it.

Carefully Sam guides the archangel through the double doors and outside into the harsh grey light of midafternoon.

Sam feels his heart sinking as he scans the area, desolate industrial buildings stretch in all directions beyond the chain-link fence, quiet aside from the wind whistling down the dirty street.

It must be a Saturday or Sunday, Sam thinks, the only vehicle in sight is a dented forklift.

Lucifer peers around as well from his vantage point in the crook of Sam's armpit, somehow he has managed to wheedle his way tightly against the taller hunter, leaning into him and soaking both their clothes with dark cold blood.

"Looks like we're walking."

Lucifer makes a low noise in the make of his throat, "Now Sammy, I'm not one to complain but-" He sags toward the ground as his legs buckle and his eyes close.

"Luce!"

Sam shouts, kneeling with the smaller man slumped in his arms, Lucifer's sandy blond hair ruffled by the biting wind.

"Hey stay with me!"

"Luce!"

"LUCIFER!"

He franticly slaps at the expressionless face, yanking his coat from his shoulders and bunching it over the wound, "You gotta answer me!"

Lucifer makes a gurgling sound that sends a spike of fear through Sam's heart.

He cradles Lucifer's head close to his chest, angling him up gently to ease his labored breaths.

"I know it's a lot to ask but we can't stay here, we gotta go Luce."

The ice blue eyes slowly drag open at Sam's shaking, "We have to go, now."

A car has pulled up to the gate in the fence and Sam knows it's not a group of friendly humans come to help.

Lucifer rolls his eyes to the side to see the shapeshifters piling from the car and pulling open the gate then back up to Sam's concerned face.

The warmth is the first thing Sam notices then the familiar scent of leather and unwashed things that fills the bunker.

He's crouching in the middle of the dim living room, Lucifer held tightly in his arms.

How they had ended up here when Lucifer had never been and the sigils everywhere Sam doesn't know, nor does he care at the moment.

"DEAN?"

Lucifer is completely limp in Sam's arms, limbs hanging loosely like those of a ragdoll as the hunter stands, still carrying him.

"DEAN!"

A door down the hall bangs open and heavy footfalls rush towards the living room, "SAM?"

Dean careens into the room and draws up short in disbelief, "WHAT THE HELL SAM?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"He's hurt Dean, real bad. Where's Cas?" Sam asks, feeling Lucifer's shallow breaths against his neck.

"Woah Sam! That's the devil, you just compromised us Sammy! What are you thinking?"

"He saved me Dean!" Sam yells back, "He's dying!"

"Good! We've been trying to kill this son of a bitch for years Sammy!" Dean bellows, reaching for the angel blade.

Sam takes a step back, "DON'T!"

"SAM! THIS IS A TRICK!"

"HE WON'T TRICK ME!"

Lucifer gasps against Sam's neck, body beginning to shudder against the blood loss.

"He's different Dean. You've gotta trust me on this one!"

"Says the guy who started the fucking apocalypse and freed the devil, he's blinding you Sam!"

"What's going on?"

Castiel's deep voice cuts over Sam's retort, dark blue eyes sweeping across the scene unfolding before him.

"Lucifer?"

"Sam's brought him here-" Dean starts but Castiel interrupts, placing a gentle hand against his older brother's temple, "He's hurt badly."

"SEE!"

He turns quickly to Dean, "This is no trick. His grace has been damaged."

"GOOD!"

Castiel shakes his head, "No. Dean, this is serious, whatever blade was used can turn an archangel human, mostly human at least."

Sam interjects, "So he's out of angel mojo? He's not dangerous?"

Cas sighs, giving his older brother a long sideways look, "Mostly. He can't heal himself. He's about as dangerous as one of your human, ah, serial killers."

"That's real comforting there Cas." Dean snaps, still griping the angel blade.

Lucifer chokes, blood oozing from between his blue lips.

"Son of a bitch."

Wordlessly Sam pushes his way into the hall and makes his way quickly to his own room, muttering softly, "Take it easy Luce."

Kicking the door of his room open he strides to the wrinkled bed and carefully lays the shuddering archangel down on the checkered bedspread.

"Sa-mmy."

Sam presses his palm to Lucifer's forehead, nearly jerking it back at the burning heat.

The cold deep-set eyes are blearily looking up at him as the fallen angel's face twists up in agony, sandy hair and olive t-shirt damp with sweat.

"You're going to be alright." Sam soothes, peaking at the wound beneath his coat.

He gently slaps the side of Lucifer's cheek, bringing the angel's rolling gaze back up to his face, "I need you to stay with me."

"Mm 'ere." Lucifer slurs.

Sam snatches up the first aid kit from the dresser and sets it on the bed, gingerly peeling his blood soaked coat away and laying a steadying hand against Lucifer's side as he cuts the ruined shirt from around the glistening wound.

"Are you with me Luce?"

"Ye..s"

Castiel squints anxiously down at his brother, "The blade was dipped in something."

"What?" Sam asks, looking between the two angels.

"Something from purgatory."

"Leviathans?" Dean questions, having followed them down the hall.

"Worse. Much worse." Castiel answers.

"Can you heal him?"

"I think I can once the poison is flushed out."

Sam and Dean share a look and Sam brushes his hand against Lucifer's cheek, "Hang on."

He gets a small nod and gritting his teeth Sam takes the holy water Dean hands him and pours it into the wound.

The reaction is immediate, Lucifer jerks upright, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream; the holy water hisses, smoking in the gaping stab wound, mixing with the blood into pink froth.

"Easy! Take it easy!" Dean barks, as the lights begin to flicker and dim.

Castiel takes his brother by the shoulders as the older angel flails on the bed, his scream swelling into his true voice.

Sam winces, holding his head to block out the thundering noise of the archangel's cry.

The blue light of Castiel's grace lights up the small bedroom as the lightbulbs shatter, raining glass down on them and suddenly Lucifer becomes silent, falling limply into the mattress, sweat beaded across his pale skin.

The light of Castiel's grace fades and the angel slumps down against the wall, drained and exhausted.

"Cas?"

"I'm fine Dean."

He meets Sam's concerned gaze, "My brother should live."

Sam quickly takes a roll of bandages from the first aid kit and while Dean goes to get new bulbs he carefully begins bandaging the wound.

"I merely pulled the poison out, I couldn't heal everything." Cas tells Sam, blue eyes dark in the dim light of the flickering candle on the dresser.

"It's okay." Sam nods, turning his gaze down to Lucifer's face, the weight of what he has done sinking in.


End file.
